


the solution is kissing

by imitation_red



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Harry Potter AU, Hogwarts AU, Hufflepuff!Scott, Kissing, M/M, Schmoop, Slytherin!Stiles, best friends to boyfriends, not explicit, wizards AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imitation_red/pseuds/imitation_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles get caught in a restricted area of Hogwarts and pretend to kiss to get out of trouble. It keeps happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the solution is kissing

The thing about being best friends with a Slytherin, Scott thinks to himself with an air of pensive resignation, is that you tend to get into a lot of tight spots.

“Shit, shit, he’s coming back this way,” Stiles hisses, ducking down behind a coat of armor and dragging Scott to a crouch beside him.

Scott glances at the exit. “We could run?”

“No, are you kidding, then he’d definitely know we were following him,” Stiles says. “Quick – kiss me.”

Scott blinks at him, blindsided. “What?”

“Kiss me,” Stiles repeats impatiently, “We need an excuse to be in here – oh, fuck it.” Apparently done trying to explain his weird twist of logic, Stiles surges forward and crashes his lips against Scott’s.

Scott sways back a little under the pressure, one hand automatically coming up to cup the side of Stiles’ head. Stiles is tense under his hand, eyes shut tightly, lips pressed against his but unmoving. It’s clear to Scott that he hasn’t done this before.

Scott angles his head and kisses softly, slowly, a gentle press of lips before moving away slightly and coming back. He feels Stiles start under his palm, and hesitantly copy the motions.

Stiles’ lips are soft, softer than Scott would’ve imagined, and he swipes his tongue over them. Stiles jolts and lets out a soft, _ah_ , one of his hands coming up to fist in Scott’s shirt.

The prefect’s  footsteps are getting louder, and by now Scott has figured out that pretending to be horny oblivious teenagers just looking for a place to make out is Stiles’ idea of getting out of trouble for being in a restricted area. Scott figures if they’re going this route, might as well make it convincing, so he grabs Stiles by the hips and hauls him easily into his lap.

Stiles makes a breathy, surprised noise against him, pulling back slightly to look at Scott with startled eyes. Scott flashes him a reassuring smile and goes in for another kiss, sucking Stiles’ lower lip and nibbling it until Stiles groans, hands twisting in Scott’s robes.

The sound of that moan does something funny to Scott, sends a shiver of heat down his spine. He runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair, tugging the short strands experimentally. They’re not long enough to get a good grip on, but Stiles seems to like it anyway, going by the way he suddenly rocks against Scott so that their chests collide.

Scott swallows back a gasp because Stiles is hard, pressing hot against his lower belly. His hips buck upwards almost instinctively, and Stiles lets out a surprised _ha_ , rucking up Scott’s shirt as he grinds against him.

“ _Ahem_.”

They jerk apart and stare up at the Ravenclaw prefect, who is doing a spectacular job of looking down at them with the same disdain you would reserve for something stuck to the bottom of your shoe. “This is a _restricted corridor_ , for _prefects only_.”

Stiles isn’t giving any indication of being capable of answering, mouth gaping open in a way that Scott should not find kind of hot, so Scott takes it upon himself to answer. “Sorry,” he says with a guilty, sweet smile. “We, um, were looking for somewhere private, and got a bit carried away.”

The prefect’s eyes narrow. “How did you even get inside, there is a password -”

Scott jumps to his feet and tugs Stiles up with him. “Not sure to be honest, but we’re very sorry about it, we’ll just be going, now,” he says, pulling Stiles away as he smiles apologetically at the prefect.

When they round the corridor and the prefect is out of sight, Stiles turns and collapses against the wall, looking dazed.

“So, um,” Scott starts awkwardly, not quite able to tear his eyes away from Stiles’ abused and red lips, “That was – new?”

Stiles gives a short, slightly manic-sounding laugh. “New. Right.” Scott watches, transfixed, as Stiles touches his own lips lightly. After a moment he seems to realize Scott is watching and quickly scrubs his mouth with the sleeve of his robes. “So, what we’ve learned here today is that I am still the best at getting away with shit, and you should always trust me.”

Scott quirks a smile at him. “I never didn’t trust you,” he says, truthfully. “Although we could have just set off a smoke spell, or something.”

Stiles makes a noise of impatience. “If we’d used a spell to confuse him and run, he might’ve still caught us.”

“If we hadn’t been following him in the first place -” Scott points out, raising one eyebrow at Stiles.

“Shhh, no, shhh,” Stiles says, planting one hand over Scott’s mouth. “Don't lie to yourself. You love the danger. Plus, now we know the password to the prefect’s bathrooms, and do you know what that means?”

“Giant bathtubs?” Scott mumbles into Stiles’ hand, resisting the urge to lick at it.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Stiles says, eyes going a little dreamy and unfocused. “Giant, amazing, private bathtubs, instead of those tiny dorm type showers they expect the rest of us unwashed lowly non-prefects to use.”

Scott wonders, briefly and involuntarily, if Stiles’ mouth parts open on a moan when he’s sinking into the delicious heat of a bath. He blushes and shakes his head slightly as if to rid himself of the thought, and firmly tells his brain to cut it out. They’re just friends. What’s a little snogging between mates?

Stiles is giving him a strange look, and Scott realizes he’s zoned out. “If we run we can make it for dinner,” he manages to say, bravely resisting the urge to check out his best friend’s crotch to see if he’s still hard, which would _not_ be very just-friends like of him.

Stiles lights up at the mention of food, effectively distracted from Scott’s weirdness, and Scott breathes a sigh of relief as Stiles grabs his hand and drags him to the Great Hall, like nothing’s changed between them.

\---

The thing is, something _has_ changed between them.

Scott can’t stop thinking about it. Stiles had been so hesitant, so clumsy, but so _eager_ – all pliant and trembly and willing under Scott’s palms.

He knows Stiles doesn’t have the best luck with girls, or boys either for that matter, and he tortures himself at night, lying awake and wondering if that had been Stiles’ first kiss.

Scott’s never thought of himself as a particularly possessive person, but he might have to revise that self-assessment. Because the idea of beings Stiles’ _first_ makes something dark and heated flare in his gut, and it scares him because he knows part of it comes from the wolf. ~~~~

So he shoves down those feelings, shuts them away as best he can, because he’s _not_ losing his best friend over some werewolf hormones.

\---

“We’re sneaking into the restricted section of the library today,” Stiles announces as he plops down on a floofy chair next to Scott in the Hufflepuff common room.

“Why,” Scott says absentmindedly. It’s not really a question, because it’s already a foregone conclusion that he’ll go along with whatever Stiles wants, and by now asking is more habit than anything.

“Cuz I’m bored and I want to see if it’s hella creepy like everyone says,” Stiles says cheerfully, tugging Scott’s History of Magic homework out from under a stack of books so he can start copying it.

“Who do you know who’s called the library “hella” creepy?” Scott asks, momentarily sidetracked, because Stiles’ is the only other person he’s met who’s native to NorCal.

“That’s what they meant, even if they didn’t say it explicitly,” Stiles explains nonsensically. “So, yes or no?”

Scott chews on the tip of his quill absentmindedly. He doesn’t have class until eleven tomorrow, so it should be fine. “Sure,” he shrugs.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Boyd, one of the boys from their year, drops down on a chair besides Scott and stares at Stiles.

“What, why?” Stiles says, affronted.

Boyd fixes Stiles with a deadpan look as he starts to pull out his homework. “This is the Hufflepuff common room. Aren’t you Slytherin, or have they finally gotten sick of you and voted to kick you out?”

“Ha, _ha_ ,” Stiles says, throwing a balled up piece of parchment at Boyd. “You bring Erica here all the time! She’s Slytherin too!”

“Erica is my _girlfriend_ ,” Boyd says pointedly.

Scott wills himself not to blush, because it’s true – Hufflepuffs are fairly relaxed about sharing their common room, unusually so, but really people only bring in their significant others inside.

“Well, I’m his _best_ friend,” Stiles counters, flinging one arm over Scott’s shoulders and glaring at Boyd.

“Uh huh,” Boyd says, unimpressed, and Scott decides now is a good time to steer the conversation into safer waters. “Hey, Boyd, did you do the Transfiguration essay on common mistakes and how to fix them yet? I’m stuck…”

\----

The Restricted Section of the library is, indeed, “hella creepy.”

The books are dark and old, many of them with stain down the spines, but it’s how they _feel_ that makes the hair on the back of Scott’s neck prickle. Maybe it’s the enhanced senses of the werewolf, but he can almost taste the dark magic being exuded, and it sets him on edge.

Stiles seems delighted, though. “Woah, look at this one! Try and read the title,” he whispers, pointing to one book, but (Scott notices) not quite daring to touch it.

Unwillingly, Scott turns his head and tries to read the title. At first, he thinks it’s in English, because the letters and words are the same. Except it doesn’t make sense, so he reads it again, and the words twist into something sinister and cruel, a bitter aftertaste on his tongue even after his mind still can’t make sense of them.

He rips his eyes away, startled to realize he’s trembling. “Stiles,” he whispers. “Stiles, can we leave, please.”

“We just got here!” Stiles protests, and grabs Scott’s hand. “C’mon, I’m right here. They’re just books, they can’t hurt you.”

Except, that’s not quite true, Scott thinks. This isn’t a muggle library like back home, where a book can only be made dangerous by the person who reads it. These are wizard books.

He lets Stiles pull him forward, focusing on the warmth of Stiles’ hand, staring resolutely at the ground. He’ll let Stiles satisfy his curiosity, but that doesn’t mean he has to look. He feels a little silly for it, because it’s not even night (if they get caught, he’d rather get caught during the day, and not at night when they’ll get in even more trouble for violating curfew) but consoles himself with the thought that in a few minutes they’ll be out of here, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

Stiles stops. From the corner of his eye, Scott sees Stiles start to reach towards one of the books.

Scott’s hand whips out and grabs him. “Don’t.”

Blinking, looking disoriented and a bit disturbed, Stiles says, “Oh – oh. I didn’t even realize -” He stares at Scott’s white-knuckled grip on his wrist, looking deeply unsettled. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s just go.”

“Thank god,” Scott mutters, immediately turning and starting to tug Stiles out of the aisle.

It’s at this moment that they here Madam Pince snap at someone for sneezing too loudly, all of two book rows away.

“Oh shit,” Scott whispers as they freeze, because even if they leave no there’s no way she’ll miss them. “Stiles -”

He’s just barely turned his head to look at his friend when Stiles grabs his face in both hands and kisses him.

Scott doesn’t think this is the best idea, because he’s pretty sure it’ll just make Madam Pince even _more_ angry, but Stiles’ lips are soft and warm against his and the higher functions of his brain come to a grinding halt. He hooks his fingers in the loops of Stiles’ jeans and hauls him close, licking the seam of his mouth until his lips part, dipping inside to taste Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles moans breathily, and Scott wants to swallow that sound, circles one hand around and sets it possessively on the small of Stiles’ back. He bites down on Stiles’ lower lip and Stiles shudders, presses the length of his body again Scott and tugs urgently at his hair.

“STUDENTS IN THE RESTRICTED SECTION!” Madam Pince’s shriek makes them jump apart. “I’LL HAVE YOU EXPELLED! OUT! _OUT!_ ”

Five seconds later they burst outside the library, Madam Pince’s shouts still ringing in their ears. Danny’s leaning on the wall outside, openly reading a Muggle romance book with two half-naked men embracing on the front, ignoring wide-eyed stares and giggles from first-years walking bye.

“Oy, you were supposed to be distracting her!” Stiles says, thumping Danny on the shoulder.

Danny shrugs and turns a page. “She kicked me out when I inquired about karma sutra for wizards. You two got out alright anyway, did she even deduct any house points?”

“Just to Slytherin,” Stiles grumbles, looking irritated. “Scott, find your scarf already or buy a new one, stop borrowing mine and getting my house double the points deducted.”

Scott smiles sheepishly, burrowing his nose in the Slytherin scarf he’d “borrowed” from Stiles weeks ago. It still smells like him, but the scent is fading. He’ll give it back in a couple days when it needs to be refreshed.

Danny’s eyes are travelling from the kiss-bitten swell of Stiles’ lips, to Scott’s still-flushed face, and back again. “Gotta go,” Scott mumbles, grabbing Stiles and dragging him off before he can protest. “Thanks for the kind-of cover, Danny!”

“Sure,” Danny calls back, sounding highly suspicious. “Anytime.”

\---

After that, Stiles seems determined to get them expelled from Hogwarts.

First, it’s sneaking into the potions stockroom, which nearly gets them detention when a professor catches them; and then it’s trying to break curfew, and sneaking into no less than three restricted-access corridors, and even not-so-subtly edging towards the Forbidden Forest during Care of Magical Creatures.

“Really, what has gotten _into_ you two these days, just kiss on the grounds like everybody else,” Professor Sprout says, exasperated, as she kicks them out of Greenhouse Seven, off-limits to everyone but seventh years.

It comes to a head when Stiles gets it in his head to follow around the Head Boy, “just for fun.” Except the Head Boy has eyebrows perpetually drawn in a scowl and is _terrifying_ and Scott is 95% he’s a werewolf, too, except the proper kind that runs wild and feral in the forest under the full moon, instead of curled up in the arms of his best mate.

(Scott is not a proper werewolf, according to Stiles. Because except for that first horrible full moon where he said cruel awful things, and fought to break free of the magically-reinforced handcuffs keeping him chained, he mostly just cuddles in Stiles’ bed now, feeling safe and anchored with Stiles wrapped around him like the Giant Squid.

It shouldn’t make him _happy_ that Stiles considers him safe, because he knows he’s not, knows he’s dangerous and should make Stiles understand that – but it makes something inside him wriggle with joy, knowing that Stiles sees him as _pack_ , as someone who would never hurt him.)

They scuttle after the Head Boy for all of two and a half corridors before he whips around and glares at them. “Why are you following me.”

“Is that a question?” Stiles says, remarkably challengingly for someone who’s all but hiding behind Scott. “Because if it is you’re supposed to use a lot more inflection than that, like, people could get confused.”

Hale fixes Stiles with a look that would stop an Unforgivable Curse dead in its tracks. Stiles gulps audibly and fists one hand in the back of Scott’s robes, ducking behind him.

“Sorry,” Scott says, “We just wanted to ask you, um, something, but if you’re busy, we can just leave.”

“What did you want to ask.” There’s still no inflection, but his tone is a little less harsh, and when he stuffs his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders it occurs to Scott that maybe he’s not as mean as he seems, just a little shy.

Scott feels bad, suddenly, because he never sees Hale hanging out with friends, just always helping out professors and working in the Owlery alone. He assumed Hale didn’t have friends because of how standoffish and unfriendly he was, but can anyone who is loved by every owl in Hogwarts possibly be that bad?

“Could you teach us Quodpot?” Scott blurts out. “We don’t know it cuz we’re Muggleborn, and none of the English wizards will teach it to us because they say Quiddich is superior, but we heard you know it because you’re from the States and the Hales are an old wizarding family…”

Hale blinks at them, looking taken aback. “I know it,” he says slowly. “And they’re wrong, Quodpot is just as cool as Quidditch.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Scott says, brightening. “So, can you teach us? Please?” He bites his lower lip a little before fixing Derek with a hopeful smile. Stiles hasn’t protested, yet, but then again Stiles had been just as put out as Scott when they hadn’t been able to find anyone willing to teach them a wizarding game popular in North America.

Hale stares for a long moment before nodding. “Okay.”

“Really? Awesome! Are you free Friday night?” Scott asks.

There’s a small furrow between Hale’s eyebrows, but Scott thinks now that it’s probably confusion, not hostility. “Yeah.”

“Meet on the grounds after dinner, then?”

“Okay,” Hale agrees, and looks even more baffled when Scott fixes him with a blinding grin.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Stiles turns incredulously on Scott. “What the heck was that?” he demands.

“That was me, getting us out of trouble, and also getting us a chance to learn a new broomstick game,” Scott says, grinning openly. _And making friends with someone who’s probably just as lonely as I was, before I had you,_ he thinks, but doesn’t say.

Stiles grumbles a little and crosses his arms. “We could have just kissed.”

Scott stops short, gives Stiles a long look that has him backtracking rapidly. “To get out of trouble, I mean. Or, whatever, your way was fine too.”

Scott can feel his mouth trying to turn up, but he doesn’t want Stiles to think he’s laughing at him, so he pushes it down. “Stiles,” he starts gently, “Were you getting us into those situations because you wanted an excuse to kiss me?”

“What – no. Of course not,” Stiles denies, arms crossing as a blush crawls down his cheeks.

Scott can’t help it – he’s smiling, now, because Stiles can’t lie for shit, not to him. “Really?” he says, stepping just a bit closer. “Because that’s kind of what it looks like.”

Stiles blushes deeper, not quite meeting his eyes. “Well, you need to get your eyes checked, then, I hear they give out free vision tests in the Infirmary.”

“Uh-huh,” Scott is close enough to make out the individual sweep of Stiles’ eyelashes, feel his quickening breath fan across his face. “So, if I said I wanted to kiss you, right now, nobody around to catch us, would you say no?”

Stiles’ eyes flicker up to his lips. “I mean, I don’t say no to free kisses, especially from my best mate,” he says weakly.

Scott brushes his nose against Stiles’, gently. “What about kisses from your boyfriend?” he asks, shyly, heart tripping in his throat.

“Definitely not,” Stiles breathes, leaning in. “I mean, not to saying no. Not saying no. Definite yes, over here, just so we’re completely clear. Wow, that was not smooth.”

Scott breaks into giggles and presses his face against Stiles’ neck. “You had _one job_ -”

“Don’t finish that, I will send youa Howler to the tune of Rick Astley, don’t think I won’t -”

Scott kisses him, because he doesn’t need an excuse now, and it’s so good, even when Stiles tries to hum _Never Gonna Give You Up_ against his mouth, and doesn’t stop until Scott kisses him breathless. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to EnigmaticSplendor and nervesmore for beta'ing ilu both so much uwu


End file.
